Chapter 1:Part 3
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A cold, gray dawn broke over the bow of the ship mirroring her thoughts. She'd tried to stop thinking, but her mind churned and roved, wondering about what could have been.
A dozen days had passed since they'd left port. She couldn't remember why she'd gone with him. Maybe it had been the cocky grin, or the perfect abs. Or maybe the twinkle in his blue eyes that had made her want him more than the protection of staying near land where she could place a call or maybe even escape. Then again, protection had been the furthest thing from her mind when she'd boarded his sailboat.
A sharp fin rose above the waterline then slowly sank into the deep. The sight of the large, white nose below her sent a shiver down her spine. Could that be a true Great White? Maybe today would be the day the torture stopped and he would allow her to die.
Escape was no longer an option. The ocean was needy and only death would bring her the relief she craved. At least the sun wasn't blasting her with its fiery heat, yet. Once the clouds burned away, the sun would fry her crispy.
The bastard had given her enough water so she hadn't succumbed to heat stroke, but the sun had blistered her hide. If she lived, her body would never be the same. The worst was the previously white strip her bikini used to cover. The bastard had turned her every so often, making sure that her breast blistered as well as her bum.
Desperation had driven her to this point. Everything in her life had seemed fulfilling from the outside. People actually thought she was happy. But she hadn't been. No one had known the truth of her existence. She'd been depressed, sad beyond belief to the point that the thrill of excitement with a stranger had drawn her away from safety to this hellish place.
She heard him stir somewhere below or maybe it was her mind playing tricks. Either way, he would eventually skip up the stairs and out the hatch. With an overly bright voice he would shout out a jovial greeting, declaring how wonderful the day would be. Sick bastard.
She was nauseated by his attitude. Sure, he had a wonderful day of torture planned for her, but that meant she'd have a shitty time. Today of all days she wished he'd hit his head, fall overboard and die.
How far she had fallen? She'd actually begged in the beginning. Every ounce of composure and etiquette that flowed through her veins had been wiped away and drained from her being. She'd do anything to gain her freedom.
Her birthday should be today, or was it yesterday? Hell, maybe it was next week, she didn't know. The frequent loss of consciousness left her delirious, making the days run together. Maybe today would be her last day on this earth then she could celebrate at least one thing.
How had she gotten so bitter? She knew the answer but didn't want to admit that being tied up and abused for the better part of two weeks had altered her so drastically. Now her body was as close to broken as she could get.
She tried to sneer, but the pain of her sunburn was too much. Betty Proctor would never go out on a sailboat with a stranger. Heck, Betty Proctor wouldn't do a lot of things. Betty Proctor been a good little girl, teacher's favorite in school and all that.
Why the hell had she thought of Betty Proctor at a time like this? Her mind was wandering too far. Nothing like torture to make you look at the world differently. What she wouldn't give for the chance to have tea with snooty, little Betty Proctor right now. Maybe if she'd been friends with the little goodie two shoes she wouldn't be in this mess right now.
"Would you look at that sunrise! The color is amazing. Don't you think?" His voice cut through her muddled ramblings, chilling her blistered skin.
She no longer cared about pleasing him. Her eyes didn't move to look at him, nor did she speak as he came closer. His legs only inches from her but she did her best to ignore him. Then the flash of something shiny caught her attention. She turned her head ever so slightly and gasped as he tossed the blade from one hand to the other. Fear spiked then ebbed away. What else could he do to her? Maybe a quick plunge of the knife between her ribs was the relief she was looking for.
After a few moments of his strutting around with the knife she mentally shrugged and dropped her head, no longer interested in what he did. Death might as well come from a blade as a shark, at least with the blade she'd be dead quickly.
"You think I'm going to slice you with this. Don't be too disappointed with me. I'm actually going to cut you down."
Elation and hope bubbled in her chest. Thoughts of home filled her until she realized he wouldn't let her live. Even if he did show a few minutes of kindness, he could never let her off this boat.
With the flick of his wrist, the ropes fell. She dropped into his arms, cradled like a baby. He lowered her to the hard fiberglass decking, taking care not to let her head bounce.
Pain flashed for a second then the numbing bliss of too much stimulation took over. Not caring about the pain did wonderful things for her memory. She quickly forgot the pain of hanging by ropes and replaced it with fear of what was to come next.
He grabbed her arms and dragged her down the steps then pushed her into the small bathroom. "Shower now, you stink."
She stepped into the small cubicle, numb to the events taking place. The words should make sense in her brain but they didn't. A shower seemed like a luxury she would never enjoy again.
He chuckled, "This is going to hurt." He turned the water on full blast. Pain ripped through her as the icy water ran over her dry and cracked skin. He shut the door, leaving her alone.
With her mouth wide she turned to the spray and gulped at the refreshing liquid, loving how it bathed her tongue. The relief was minimal, but it gave her enough energy to begin cleaning herself. After shampooing once and washing her body as gently as she could, she turned off the water, waiting for his next set of instructions. She didn't dare take any initiative on her own. His punishment had taught her that much.
He pushed open the door and tossed her a towel. "Come now."
She tried to dry herself as she followed but the pain was too much. Desperation was replaced by depression. The nightmare just kept going. Even if she wanted to, she couldn't run. Life had winnowed down to this small sailboat and the two of them.
In the tiny cabin he pointed at the bed, "Sleep."
Her feet stalled. Images of horrible acts he might do to her filled her mind. Her eyes clamped shut, trying to block out most of the horror, but her small act of defiance didn't stave off the though of rape and beatings.
"Lay down and go to sleep," he commanded.
She shook her head, but knew she didn't have a choice. He led her to the bed and pushed her down. Gently, he pulled the covers over her and turned out the lights. The door shut softly behind him.
Her heart thundered and her mind flipped through the possibilities. What had just happened? This was crazy. Could he be letting her go, or was this just another sick game made to keep her off balance? She fought sleep, staying awake as long as possible, but the long days and nights of torture had taken its toll. She passed out before she could think of any means to escape.Copyright Sara Thacker
Like Red Skhye in Morning? Read Smooth Lies

A cold, gray dawn broke over the bow of the ship mirroring her thoughts. She'd tried to stop thinking, but her mind churned and roved, wondering about what could have been.
A dozen days had passed since they'd left port. She couldn't remember why she'd gone with him. Maybe it had been the cocky grin, or the perfect abs. Or maybe the twinkle in his blue eyes that had made her want him more than the protection of staying near land where she could place a call or maybe even escape. Then again, protection had been the furthest thing from her mind when she'd boarded his sailboat.
A sharp fin rose above the waterline then slowly sank into the deep. The sight of the large, white nose below her sent a shiver down her spine. Could that be a true Great White? Maybe today would be the day the torture stopped and he would allow her to die.
Escape was no longer an option. The ocean was needy and only death would bring her the relief she craved. At least the sun wasn't blasting her with its fiery heat, yet. Once the clouds burned away, the sun would fry her crispy.
The bastard had given her enough water so she hadn't succumbed to heat stroke, but the sun had blistered her hide. If she lived, her body would never be the same. The worst was the previously white strip her bikini used to cover. The bastard had turned her every so often, making sure that her breast blistered as well as her bum.
Desperation had driven her to this point. Everything in her life had seemed fulfilling from the outside. People actually thought she was happy. But she hadn't been. No one had known the truth of her existence. She'd been depressed, sad beyond belief to the point that the thrill of excitement with a stranger had drawn her away from safety to this hellish place.
She heard him stir somewhere below or maybe it was her mind playing tricks. Either way, he would eventually skip up the stairs and out the hatch. With an overly bright voice he would shout out a jovial greeting, declaring how wonderful the day would be. Sick bastard.
She was nauseated by his attitude. Sure, he had a wonderful day of torture planned for her, but that meant she'd have a shitty time. Today of all days she wished he'd hit his head, fall overboard and die.
How far she had fallen? She'd actually begged in the beginning. Every ounce of composure and etiquette that flowed through her veins had been wiped away and drained from her being. She'd do anything to gain her freedom.
Her birthday should be today, or was it yesterday? Hell, maybe it was next week, she didn't know. The frequent loss of consciousness left her delirious, making the days run together. Maybe today would be her last day on this earth then she could celebrate at least one thing.
How had she gotten so bitter? She knew the answer but didn't want to admit that being tied up and abused for the better part of two weeks had altered her so drastically. Now her body was as close to broken as she could get.
She tried to sneer, but the pain of her sunburn was too much. Betty Proctor would never go out on a sailboat with a stranger. Heck, Betty Proctor wouldn't do a lot of things. Betty Proctor been a good little girl, teacher's favorite in school and all that.
Why the hell had she thought of Betty Proctor at a time like this? Her mind was wandering too far. Nothing like torture to make you look at the world differently. What she wouldn't give for the chance to have tea with snooty, little Betty Proctor right now. Maybe if she'd been friends with the little goodie two shoes she wouldn't be in this mess right now.
"Would you look at that sunrise! The color is amazing. Don't you think?" His voice cut through her muddled ramblings, chilling her blistered skin.
She no longer cared about pleasing him. Her eyes didn't move to look at him, nor did she speak as he came closer. His legs only inches from her but she did her best to ignore him. Then the flash of something shiny caught her attention. She turned her head ever so slightly and gasped as he tossed the blade from one hand to the other. Fear spiked then ebbed away. What else could he do to her? Maybe a quick plunge of the knife between her ribs was the relief she was looking for.
After a few moments of his strutting around with the knife she mentally shrugged and dropped her head, no longer interested in what he did. Death might as well come from a blade as a shark, at least with the blade she'd be dead quickly.
"You think I'm going to slice you with this. Don't be too disappointed with me. I'm actually going to cut you down."
Elation and hope bubbled in her chest. Thoughts of home filled her until she realized he wouldn't let her live. Even if he did show a few minutes of kindness, he could never let her off this boat.
With the flick of his wrist, the ropes fell. She dropped into his arms, cradled like a baby. He lowered her to the hard fiberglass decking, taking care not to let her head bounce.
Pain flashed for a second then the numbing bliss of too much stimulation took over. Not caring about the pain did wonderful things for her memory. She quickly forgot the pain of hanging by ropes and replaced it with fear of what was to come next.
He grabbed her arms and dragged her down the steps then pushed her into the small bathroom. "Shower now, you stink."
She stepped into the small cubicle, numb to the events taking place. The words should make sense in her brain but they didn't. A shower seemed like a luxury she would never enjoy again.
He chuckled, "This is going to hurt." He turned the water on full blast. Pain ripped through her as the icy water ran over her dry and cracked skin. He shut the door, leaving her alone.
With her mouth wide she turned to the spray and gulped at the refreshing liquid, loving how it bathed her tongue. The relief was minimal, but it gave her enough energy to begin cleaning herself. After shampooing once and washing her body as gently as she could, she turned off the water, waiting for his next set of instructions. She didn't dare take any initiative on her own. His punishment had taught her that much.
He pushed open the door and tossed her a towel. "Come now."
She tried to dry herself as she followed but the pain was too much. Desperation was replaced by depression. The nightmare just kept going. Even if she wanted to, she couldn't run. Life had winnowed down to this small sailboat and the two of them.
In the tiny cabin he pointed at the bed, "Sleep."
Her feet stalled. Images of horrible acts he might do to her filled her mind. Her eyes clamped shut, trying to block out most of the horror, but her small act of defiance didn't stave off the though of rape and beatings.
"Lay down and go to sleep," he commanded.
She shook her head, but knew she didn't have a choice. He led her to the bed and pushed her down. Gently, he pulled the covers over her and turned out the lights. The door shut softly behind him.
Her heart thundered and her mind flipped through the possibilities. What had just happened? This was crazy. Could he be letting her go, or was this just another sick game made to keep her off balance? She fought sleep, staying awake as long as possible, but the long days and nights of torture had taken its toll. She passed out before she could think of any means to escape.Copyright Sara Thacker
Like Red Skhye in Morning? Read Smooth Lies


Published on May 05, 2011 01:10
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Red Skhye In Morning
Introducing Red Skhye in Morning. Delanie Skhye is desperate for paparazzi free time. Samuel Taylor is on break from work. He finds Delanie alone on a private island, but something is wrong. A killer
Introducing Red Skhye in Morning. Delanie Skhye is desperate for paparazzi free time. Samuel Taylor is on break from work. He finds Delanie alone on a private island, but something is wrong. A killer is on the loose, preying on blonds. The killer targets both Delanie and Sam and they have to fight to live. William Sterling Rowland the Third wants to save the day. Will evil win, or can the world be saved by an FBI agent, a bored CEO and a movie star?
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